Z Cupid Crashes Christmas Complete
by Fanatical Writer
Summary: Penelope Garcia thought she was in for a no strings attached relationship. Derek Morgan thought he had escaped the wiles of his family by moving so far away. And Cupid...well, he's just frustrated with them both.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: I think we're looking at a four-parter here! Enjoy!_

Derek collapsed onto his mattress beside Garcia with a satisfied sigh, struggling for air even as he spoke. "That was…"

"Fantastic, as usual," Garcia finished breathlessly.

Derek nodded. "To say the least."

Penelope closed her eyes and then opened them as she sat up. "I have to go," she said, reaching for her underwear.

But Derek grabbed her wrist. "So soon?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

She laughed. "I have to be to work in a few hours," she reminded him.

"Well, so do I," he reasoned.

"Yes, but I don't have any clothes here."

"Well, that _is_ a bit of an obstacle," he agreed. "But two hours? We have time enough for another round."

She stood up and stepped into her panties. "I have to go home and shower," she told him.

He sat up on his knees and crawled towards her, his hands resting on her hips. "Shower _here_," he said with a teasing glint in his eyes.

She laughed. "And be dirtier than when I got in?"

"With any luck," he said huskily.

She took his face in her hands, leaning down to kiss him hard on the mouth. "As much as I'd like to, I can barely walk as it is."

He got a smug look on his face. "OK, now _that_ is an excuse I can live with." He lay back down on the bed and watched her as she finished getting dressed.

She grinned at him over her shoulder. "See you in a few hours," she said as she left the room.

_Damn_. He was hard again.

The woman was a tiger in bed.

___

Penelope Garcia sighed as she made her way into the BAU. Not only had she had an incredible night of sex—with no strings attached, she might add—but today was the last day before Christmas vacation. The BAU didn't disband very often, but the Christmas holiday was an exception. It gave Hotch a chance to spend time with his family, JJ time to spend with hers, Reid would go to Vegas to see his mother, Prentiss went to see the ambassador, and…well she wasn't quite sure _what_ Derek was doing for Christmas this year. She grinned. They didn't talk much.

But she was going to do what she always did. Watch movies on Lifetime, Hallmark, and ABC Family. And while her idea of a perfect Christmas wasn't what everyone else's was, she'd come to terms with her circumstances long ago. Better to make lemonade out of lemons and all that.

She began humming It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year as she walked into her office. She put her things away and fired up her baby. Until she'd started getting laid again, her computer had pretty much been her life. But when Morgan had suggested the friends with benefits option, she'd jumped on it—and him. It wasn't like he was her first; she'd been with other men. But none like him. She didn't even know she'd never gotten off until Morgan. She smiled at the thought. Usually in under five minutes. And _never_ only once. She shivered at the thought. Had she known how freeing and 'no pressure' a no strings attached relationship could be, _she_ would have suggested it herself years ago.

The door behind her slammed shut and she flew up out of her chair. It went rolling across the room. "Morgan!" she said breathlessly. "You scared me half to death!"

He stopped her chair with his hands. "We're in a heap of trouble!" he said severely as he gave her chair a solid push back towards her.

She lifted an eyebrow at him as she caught it, then sank back into it. "Did I knock you up?" she asked in a teasing tone.

He took a deep breath, and closing his eyes, he leaned back against her door. "I need a huge favor," he told her.

She turned back to her computer. "What?" she asked, as she began opening the programs she needed for a typical day.

He cleared his throat. "My family _might_ think we're engaged," he told her.

First she froze, and then she spun around in her chair and shook her head as if to clear it. "What?" she asked in disbelief.

He sighed. "I may have told them that we were engaged to get them off my back," he told her.

"Why _me?_" she asked.

"Remember that picture JJ took of us at the picnic last summer?"

She nodded.

"Well, she emailed me a copy of it, and when mom asked for a picture of my girlfriend…" He winced. "I sent her that one."

"Why would you _do_ something so stupid?" she demanded.

"You have no idea what my mother and sisters are like!" he said desperately.

She sat there, studying his face. The expression on her own told Derek she didn't like what she was hearing.

She scoffed. "Well, it sounds to me like _you're_ the one in 'a heap of trouble,'" she told him.

"Except that this morning when my mother called, she gave me an ultimatum." He looked at her face, his expression almost pleading. Which was highly unusual for him. Derek Morgan didn't beg. He had, though, on occasion, caused her to beg. "I can either bring you to Chicago for Christmas...or she'll come here to meet you."

"What?" Penelope shrieked.

"I _told_ you it wasn't good news!"

She flew up out of her chair again. "I thought we were just bangin'," she told him.

"Well, we can 'just bang' in Chicago," he told her.

She shook her head and pointed a finger at him. "No! No, no, no. I have plans for Christmas, Morgan! And they _don't_ involve…_Chicago_," she spat.

"They do now," he told her.

She glared at him, hands on her hips. "I'm not doing this," she said defiantly.

"Garcia—"

"I WANTED NO STRINGS ATTACHED!_" _she yelled.

He winced again. "I'm sorry," he told her sincerely. "But I promise, once we get back here, we'll go back to no strings."

She sat back down in her chair and leaned back with a sigh. He looked out into the bullpen and no one else was on the floor, so he walked over and kneeled down in front of her. "If you do this, Garcia…" His hands found her bare ankles and slid up her legs and underneath her skirt, his touch feather light. She had to bite back a groan. She _knew_ what he could do with those hands. His voice fell to a whisper. "I'll do that thing you like. With my hands…and then my tongue…and then my hands…and then my tongue…" He lifted his mouth to nip her earlobe. She pushed him away.

"Dammitt, Morgan," she said angrily and breathlessly…but mostly breathlessly.

"What do you say?" he asked, his gaze piercing into hers.

"I swear to God, Morgan…" She rubbed her forehead. "When do we leave?"

"Tonight," he told her. "And…one last thing."

"What?" she asked harshly.

"Don't you think it's about time you started calling me Derek?" he asked.

"No. I don't want things to get personal," she reasoned.

He grinned up at her, his elbows resting on her thighs. "I was inside of you less than two hours ago. You don't think that's personal?"

She took a deep breath. Aspirin. She was gonna need a lot of aspirin.


	2. Chapter 2

"Sweet Lord," Morgan whispered. His breath tickled her ear and she nearly shivered. "I've never done _that_ before."

They were leaving the plane, and his hands were resting on her shoulders, walking as close to her as possible without stepping on her heels.

"You mean you weren't _already _a member of the mile high club?" she asked, flashing him a grin over her shoulder.

Instead of answering, he gave her shoulders a squeeze.

"Did you enjoy your flight?" a stewardess asked as they exited the plane.

Morgan grinned at her. "Immensely, thank you."

Penelope cleared her throat to keep from laughing.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Morgan said as he pulled a blue velvet box out of his pocket. He handed it to Penelope. "For you."

She took the box and opened it, her eyes widening. "Is this…real?" she asked, coming to a stop to study the ring.

He nodded, taking her elbow to resume their pace. They were holding up the people behind them.

"Are you kidding?" she asked in disbelief. She took the ring out of the box and put it on the third finger of her left hand. "Perfect," she said in awe. "Why didn't you just get a cubic zirconia?" But even as she asked, she held her hand up in front of her to admire it.

"My mother could spot a fake _immediately_," he told her.

"Where did you get this?" she asked. "A pawn shop?"

"No," he told her. "I got it at Diamond Link."

"You got it at a _real_ jewelry shop? Morgan! This must have cost you a fortune."

He shrugged. "I had a trade in."

"Oooh," she said. "What were _you _doing with a diamond?"

He sighed. "I was engaged when I was living in Chicago," he told her.

"Is that why you left?" she asked softly. "Because you weren't engaged anymore?"

"Partly," he admitted.

"What happened?" she asked.

"She… left me because I worked too much," he told her. "So I solved that. I moved to Virginia, joined the FBI, and worked even more."

"Ahhh…your last chance to stick it to her."

He laughed. "Exactly," he said, reaching down for her hand.

"What are you doing?" she asked, trying to pull away. But his grasp remained firm.

"Playing the part," he told her. "You can be sure that somewhere, my mother and sisters are watching our every move."

Penelope looked around the airport but couldn't spot them. "They think we're engaged," she muttered. "They're not gonna be expecting us to be puking affection."

"What?" he asked with a grin.

"They'll think we're past the…lovey stage."

"Penelope Garcia," he said scolding. "If you think that I will stop romancing my girl once I've got her, then you don't know me very well. My mother, on the other hand, would expect nothing less." He kissed her on the forehead. "Now put stars in those gorgeous eyes of yours whenever you look at me, because anything else will rouse my mother's suspicion. And trust me, baby girl. The woman…is like a vulture."

"_Now_ you tell me," she said with a dramatic eye roll.

"Don't worry," he said huskily. "Tonight—when I'm inside you, it'll all be worth it."

At that—she _did_ shiver.

___

"I can't _believe_ you're finally home," Derek's mother said, embracing him again as they walked through the front door.

He laughed. "I'd hug you mom, but I'm loaded down with luggage."

She waved a hand. "Just drop it by the door for now," she said dismissively.

"I need to go get the rest of my bags," Penelope said, trying to move around mother and son.

"Derek will get it for you," his mother said.

"Sure thing, baby girl," he said, leaning down and kissing Penelope on the forehead.

"Thanks…hon," she said. But it sounded flat even to her own ears.

But Derek was quick to cover. "There's no reason to be shy around my mother," he told her, wrapping an arm around her waist and giving her a squeeze. "You can call me sweet stuff."

Penelope cleared her throat and nodded uncertainly as Derek disappeared to get the rest of her luggage.

"Would you like some wine?" his mother asked, pulling two glasses out of the cupboard.

"Please," Penelope said amiably. _And lots of it!_

His mother walked into what Penelope assumed was a pantry and returned with a bottle of wine and proceeded to uncork it and pour them each half a glass.

"A little more would be _great_," Penelope said. She needed to get these nerves relaxed.

"You know what? I think you're right!" she said, filling each of their glasses close to the rim.

Penelope reached for her glass on the counter and followed Derek's mother into the living room. They sat down on the couch and Penelope tried to look around the room to avoid Mrs. Morgan's stare.

"So, how did you meet my son?" she asked.

"At work," Penelope said quickly, taking a sip of her wine.

Mrs. Morgan nodded. "Was it love at first sight?" she asked.

"Something…like…that," Penelope said evasively. She had no idea what Derek had told his mother, and she didn't want to contradict any story he may have fabricated about their fake engagement.

Luckily, he chose that moment to walk into the living room. "Where'd Sarah and Desiree go?" he asked, looking around.

"They went to get stuff for supper," she told him, and then smiled. "Lasagna."

Derek rubbed his stomach. "Mmm mmm mmm," he said heartily. "Momma's homemade lasagna! You know just how to get to me, Momma."

She grinned. "Some things never change," she said. "So, have you two set a wedding date yet?" she asked.

Penelope choked on her wine and Derek pounded her back a few times. "You OK, baby cakes?" he asked.

She coughed. "My throat," she said, patting her chest as she struggled for breath. "It was dry. I'm so sorry."

Mrs. Morgan grinned at her. "Derek's giving you a hard time setting a date, huh?"

"Exactly the opposite," Derek said, sitting down in between them, closer to Penelope. "I want to make it official, but Penelope here is happy just living in sin."

Oh, she was going to kill him the first chance she got.

"So, you two are living together, then?"

"Oh, just a few nights here and there when I can talk her into it," he said in a teasing tone, putting a hand on her knee.

His mother gave them a knowing look, and Penelope had to bite back a retort. It was like he was baiting her!

"Have you discussed children yet?" she asked casually.

Derek nodded. "I'm thinking six, but Penelope wants to stop at two." He shrugged. "We'll see," he said, taking the glass out of her hand and finishing off her wine. "It's definitely up for discussion."

Penelope cleared her throat again and stood up. "If you can just tell me where my room is, I'd like to get settled in and freshened up before dinner."

"Of course," Mrs. Morgan said, as she rose to her feet.

"You show her to our room, Momma," Derek said. "And I'll get our bags."

___

Penelope was pacing furiously when he walked into the room with the last of their suitcases. As soon as they hit the floor, she hit him upside the head.

"Oww! What the hell?" he asked.

"Are you _trying_ to make me look like an idiot?" she asked heatedly.

"What in the _hell_ are you talking about?" he demanded.

"Oh, Penelope likes living in sin. Penelope only wants two kids," she said, hands on hips, mimicking his voice.

He laughed. "Just so you know, I don't sound anything like that," he told her softly as he approached her. He looped his arms around her waist and pulled her flush against him.

"Derek—" she said weakly.

He took her face in his hands. "I wasn't trying to make you sound like an idiot," he assured her.

"Well, it felt like you were," she said with a pout.

He'd never seen her pout before. She looked adorable. He couldn't help but drop a soft kiss on her pouty lips. "I'm trying to establish our differences," he explained. "So that when I have to tell my mother that we broke it off, I have some excuses in my back pocket."

"OK," she said in understanding. "I guess that _does_ make sense."

He grinned down at her. "I'm not as stupid as I look, you know," he told her.

She laughed as he lowered his lips to her neck and began to suckle. "Derek," she said breathlessly.

He lifted his lips long enough to say, "What, baby girl?"

"You _know_ I am white as a ghost! I swear, if you give me a hicky—"

"Would you relax?" he said, pulling away. "I just wanted a little taste of ya. God, you're adorable when you're nervous."

She took a deep breath. "Then you should be getting a pretty good show over the next three days," she informed him.


	3. Chapter 3

Penelope sat back and watched the Morgan's interact with each other. Granted she hadn't been part of a family for a very long time so her memory was a little rusty, but this family seemed different than most. They actually seemed to be enjoying each other. And Morgan had been right about his mother's lasagna. It had been fantastic, along with the homemade garlic bread. They'd cleared the table, each rinsing their own dinner ware and putting it in the dishwasher—all except for Penelope. Morgan had taken care of her dishes for her. That was nearly an hour ago, and the family was still lingering, relishing their time spent together.

Derek kept giving her flirty looks across the table, and she could feel the anticipation building. For a fake relationship, he was doing a bang up job of being convincing. She half believed he was in love with her.

She couldn't wait to get to bed tonight—and from the look in Morgan's eyes—neither could he.

___

"What's going on?" Derek asked, putting the magazine he'd been reading down onto the nightstand.

"Nothing," she said as she pulled the blankets down and crawled into bed beside him, fluffing her pillow before lying her head down.

He grinned as he lifted an eyebrow at her. "You're lying to a behavioral analyst?" he said in a teasing tone, looking down at her.

She smiled back up at him. "I've never 'met the parents' before," she told him. "I haven't even _had_ parents in…years. I'm not sure how to act," she admitted.

He turned the lamp off and lay down beside her, his head on his own pillow, facing her. "Well, you act like _you_," he said softly.

"What if your family doesn't like me?" she asked.

He grinned. "Then they're idiots," he told her.

"I'm serious," she said firmly.

"So am I. Penelope, my mother is crazy about you because I am," he said fervently. "Or at least—she thinks I am," he was quick to amend.

Penelope nodded. "Right," she said softly. Of course Morgan wasn't really crazy about her, and she would be wise to remember that.

He moved his hands under the covers searching for the waist band of her panties.

"What are you doing?" she asked, breathless already.

"Cheering you up," he said in a teasing tone.

She slapped his hand away. "I don't know if I can do this in your mother's house!" she whispered. A few hours ago, she'd been excited to be alone with Morgan, but now…she wasn't so sure she could do this. His mother was just down the hallway!

"I'll tell you what," Derek said with a wink as he lifted up the blankets. "You just lay there." His head disappeared under the covers and a few seconds later, she felt him tugging on the waistband of her pajama bottoms and panties.

"Morgan," she said firmly.

He threw the covers back and lifted his head. "Yeah, baby girl?"

"I don't think—"

"Then stop thinking!" he scolded, giving her pajamas a solid yank.

She couldn't help it, she lifted her hips to make it easier for him, and just like that she could feel his breath on the inside of her thigh. She bit down on her lower lip and arched her back when she felt him nip at her flesh. She grabbed the blankets with both hands and squeezed the sheets when she felt his fingers between her legs, parting her. His tongue found the spot he was looking for almost immediately, and he began to suckle her and use his tongue intermittently.

"Morgan," she whispered urgently, as he swirled his tongue around and around. "I want you inside of me _now_!"

He lifted his head to look at her and slowly shook it back and forth. "Uh-uh," he said softly. He lifted one corner of his mouth, flashing her a half grin. "Slow." He returned to his task and continued until he felt her body tighten and her back arch again. He didn't stop until he felt her fall back onto the mattress followed by a satisfied sigh.

He covered her body with his and took her face in his hands, leaning down to place a firm kiss on her lips. She opened for him instantly, her arms coming around his shoulders. He swept his tongue inside of her mouth and he could almost feel her desperation. She lifted her head off the pillow as if trying to get closer to him. He couldn't pinpoint it, but there was something different about this kiss. It made him uneasy, and he broke it, bringing his lips to her neck instead. She tilted her head back to give him better access, and felt his tongue fleck out from between his lips, leaving the spot on her neck cool where the air met the dampness.

"Derek…" she said urgently.

"Screw slow," he said fervently as he grabbed the waist band of his pants and yanked them down to his knees. He positioned himself at her opening and then plunged inside of her, his pace matching her earlier tone. He heard her breath catch in her throat, her hands coming up to rest at his waist. Even as she lifted her hips to meet him thrust for thrust, he couldn't help but think that there was something intimate about the placement of her hands. Something that went beyond sex. There was a trust in her touch…the way she rested her hands on him, as if she'd do it a thousand times again. Almost immediately, he felt her tighten around him. The fact that he could get her off so quickly again was enough to incite him to the same point, and he came as quickly as she did. He collapsed on top of her with a satisfied groan, his forehead resting on her shoulder. Her hand came up and she began to stroke the back of his head slowly. He stiffened involuntarily and rolled off her, onto his side of the bed. He pulled his pants back up, and turned so he was facing away from her.

He looked out the window but all he could see was darkness. He needed something to concentrate on—something besides whatever was going on inside of him. It wasn't new; things had been changing for a while now. Whereas Penelope was content to keep things platonic between them, he wanted something different. He'd asked her more than once to stay the night with him, but she'd always just grin at him over her shoulder and then breeze out of the room. His heart tightened at the thought that she'd eventually breeze out of his _life_. And then where would he be? He'd never had a problem confessing his feelings before, but he had to admit, he'd never been afraid of rejection before, either. And Penelope was forever saying no to him.

So what was he doing facing the other way when she was spending the night with him? Even if it was sort of forced? He took a deep breath and rolled over. She was facing away from him, and he moved closer, cautiously wrapping an arm around her, above her waist, just underneath her breasts. He pulled her back closer to his chest and had to hold back a sigh when he felt her stiffen.

"Cuddling wasn't part of the deal," she reminded him.

"Neither was meeting the parents," he shot back.

She didn't say anything else, and it was a long time before he felt her relax. When she did, she moved her arm so it was lying on the one he had wrapped around her waist. Then she laced her fingers through his.

Derek took it as a good sign.

___

"Owww!" Penelope said, sticking her finger in her mouth.

Derek laughed. "You can tell she's never done this before," he said in a teasing tone.

"Well, it _is_ an art form," Desiree said. "And like everything else, practice makes perfect."

Sarah laughed. "Don't listen to them, Penelope. With you here, I look good! _I'm_ usually the one who walks away with swollen finger tips."

Penelope picked a piece of popcorn from the bowl and squinted to make sure that it made its way onto the needle without poking her finger this time. She followed that with a cranberry, and then continued her pattern meticulously. They'd moved the coffee table out of the way, and Penelope and Derek were sitting on the floor leaning against the couch, and Sarah and Desiree were leaning against the recliners. Derek was wearing a pair of worn jeans that fit him just right—and sitting like he was, legs stretched out before him and crossed at the ankles, molded perfectly to his upper thighs—a forest green shirt that had three buttons leading to his neck, and a pair of wool socks on his feet. He looked sexy and he smelled manly. She'd never noticed cologne on him before, and whatever this was, it was fantastic. She was going to have to find out what it was. She'd use it as an air freshener if she had to—but she'd find something to do with it.

"Are you sure you don't want help with the lights, Momma?" Derek asked without looking up from his stringing.

"I'm fine," she said. "Lights and garland are all mine. You know the drill."

"And yet _every_ year he asks," Desiree said with an eye roll.

"Hey, hey, hey," Derek said. "At least I offer up my services."

Sarah snorted. "The one year we let _you_ help with the Christmas lights, Derek Morgan, what happened?"

Penelope was already grinning at the exchange.

"And _what_ are you smirking at, baby girl?" he asked.

"Nothing," Penelope said innocently.

Sarah cleared her throat. "Ten sets of icicle lights. _Ten,_" she said. "And did you know that if even one of them has a light out, then not _one_ of them will work? Oh, and what was _your_ job that year, Derek?"

He lifted his head to glare at her. "To check the lights before we hung them," he muttered.

"Oh, and did you do that, Derek? Because I forget how this story ends," Sarah kept on.

"Momma!" Derek said. "Do you see what they do to your baby boy?" he asked.

"I can't go to bat for you on this one, Derek," Fran said. "This one is all you."

He rolled his eyes. "Great. Thanks a lot," he said, his tone teasing.

Penelope laughed. "That doesn't surprise me," she said.

"Hey," Derek scolded. "Don't make me come over there!" He tied off the end of his homemade garland and grinned triumphantly. "Done!" he said proudly.

Desiree rolled her eyes. "You are so competitive," she said.

"You would be, too, if you were good at anything," he scoffed.

"Kids!" their mother said, causing Desiree to stick her tongue out at Derek. This elicited a laugh from Penelope, and Fran turned around to see what was going on. She missed Desiree's teasing, but caught Derek winking at Penelope. She grinned and turned back to the tree, finishing up with the lights. Sarah snagged Derek's garland and she and Desiree got up to put their garland on the tree.

"I can't believe you don't put up the tree until Christmas Eve," Penelope said in disbelief. "Most people put it up the day after Thanksgiving."

"Well, we Morgan's are not most people," he informed her, leaning over to give her a kiss on the cheek.

"Yes, I _see_ that."

Penelope looked up at the tree that they'd purchased earlier that morning—it was massive. Fran had already put the angel on the top and was taking the covers off the storage bins that Penelope suspected were full of decorations.

Derek stood up and put his hand out, pulling her to her feet. "We need to hang your garland," he explained. They found the perfect spot for her garland and then Derek began sifting through the decorations. They started decorating the tree and it wasn't long before Fran disappeared upstairs. She returned quickly with a small box. "Now, I know that you two aren't married yet," she said. "But this _is_ technically your first Christmas together, and I thought we should celebrate the occasion. We never know what next year will hold." She winked at Penelope. "You may be in no condition to fly."

Penelope felt her cheeks redden as Fran handed her the box. She opened the lid and pulled out a white iridescent Christmas ornament with joined hands and a little banner beneath that said 'our first Christmas 2009.'

"Aww," Derek said as he stepped closer to Penelope from behind and wrapped his arms around her waist. He nuzzled her neck playfully. "Thanks, Momma," he said softly.

"It's beautiful," Penelope said, holding up the ornament to study it. "Thank you so much." She smiled as she looked at Fran and hoped the guilt she was feeling wasn't evident in her eyes. This definitely wasn't how this was supposed to go. She hadn't planned on liking his family so much. Not that she thought she'd dislike them, but keeping people at arms length had always been Penelope's strong suit.

"You're welcome," Fran said softly.

They found a place on the tree for the new ornament, and then went back to work getting the others on the tree.

"My God," Derek whispered to Sarah when everyone else was out of earshot. "She is pouring. It. On."

Sarah laughed. "She loves Penelope. I've never seen her like this about anyone _any_ of us have dated before."

"I think she likes her better than she likes me," Derek said.

Sarah laughed. "I don't want to hurt your feelings, little brother, but I think you're right."

And for the first time, Derek felt guilty about his charade. His mother was going to be heartbroken when he and Penelope 'broke-up.'

___

"I've never done this before," Penelope said in a shrill voice later that afternoon as Derek let go of her hand and skated in circles around her. She stayed as still as she could until she came to a complete stop and closed her eyes, not daring even to breathe.

He skated closer and closer to her until he brushed up against her. "Derek," she screeched, her eyes flying open.

He grinned. "What?" he asked innocently, taking her hands and skating backwards, pulling her with him. It seemed this afternoon was full of firsts for her.

"Are you _trying_ to knock me on my ass?" she asked playfully.

"Oh, baby, if I was trying to get you on your ass, I'd be a hell of a lot more creative than this," he told her as he came to a stop. She came crashing against his chest, convinced they were going to fall. But instead, he kept his balance and wrapped his arms around her waist, steadying her. He dropped a kiss on her nose. "Did you think I was gonna let you fall?" he asked with a grin.

She bit her lower lip. "Maybe a little," she admitted.

He stepped away form her and took her hand as he led her towards one of the benches.

"Are you letting me off the ice?" she asked in relief.

"For a little bit," he said. "You want some hot chocolate?"

"That would be wonderful," she said. And it would be. Penelope wasn't used to this frigid Chicago weather. They'd had to go shopping earlier that day for a winter coat and hat and mittens. It had been a great idea, but she had secretly hoped she wouldn't have to use them.

And then Desiree had announced that they'd be going ice skating this evening—apparently _another_ Morgan tradition. She'd tried to get out of it, but Derek wouldn't let her. They took off their ice skates and put their shoes on, then headed for the hot chocolate stand. The line was long, and Derek's mittened hand reached down for hers while they waited.

"I can't wait for Virginia weather," she said longingly.

Derek laughed. "You get used to the cold."

"I don't know if I believe that," she said, her teeth chattering. "I don't think I'll ever be warm again."

"Oh, baby girl," he said as he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. "I'll warm you up later."

The lights on the rink flickered once and everyone began to skate off the ice. "What's going on?" Penelope asked, looking around.

"Every year on Christmas Eve, there's an ice skating version of The Nutcracker," he told her. "The lights flickering tells everyone that it's about to begin and that it's time to leave the ice."

She nodded. "Do you stick around for it?" she asked, hoping they did. She would love to see it.

"Of course we do," Morgan told her, moving up to the booth. "Two candy cane hot chocolates, please," he said as he paid the man.

They got their hot chocolates and joined his mother and sisters on their spot on the bleachers. Derek's mother pulled a blanket out of the tote bag she had by her feet and passed it to her son. "You're going to need this!" she told him.

He fanned the blanket out and wrapped it around his and Penelope's legs to keep them as warm as possible.

___

"That was fantastic," Penelope said as they walked into their bedroom later that evening. "I've never seen—what's that?" she asked, pointing to their pillows. There was a wrapped present resting on each one.

"Pajamas," Derek told her. "We get new pajamas every year for Christmas."

"You're kidding. And I get a pair?" she asked in disbelief.

"Sure. You're practically part of the family now," he reminded her.

She swallowed past he lump in her throat.

"I hope yours are red," he said thoughtfully. "And lacy. Ooooh, and see through!"

She nodded wordlessly past the lump that had formed in her throat.

"Garcia, _what_ is wrong? You haven't been yourself this entire trip," he said to her.

"Of course I haven't been myself!" she said sharply. "_Myself _isn't engaged to you! I am lying to…an amazing group of people," she said. But most of all, she was lying to herself. Years past, Christmas movies on television coupled with popcorn had been enough for her. But she was certain that in the years to come, it wasn't going to be enough anymore.

"Hey, they're just pajamas," he told her. And then, with a scowl, "And probably footie ones that zip up! My mother always gets us pajamas on Christmas Eve and we have our picture taken in front of the tree. It's not a big deal, Garcia."

Of course it wasn't a big deal to _him_. It was a ritual he'd been practicing for years. But now they wanted to take pictures of her. With their family. As part of their tradition. She sighed as she fought back threatening tears. And every time they'd pull out pictures of _this_ Christmas, she was going to be remembered as the woman who'd lied to them.


	4. Chapter 4

Derek _knew_ he was being unfair. He hadn't stopped to think how much his family was going to love her—and why wouldn't they? Penelope was nothing if not amiable. And as for how well she was taking to them—well he hadn't once stopped to think about the fact that she hadn't had a _real_ family in a long time. Of course she'd fall in love with them.

He felt like a dick for even putting her in this situation, and he couldn't even convince himself otherwise. He deserved the feeling. He'd rolled away from her sometime during the night and when he'd awoken his mind was going a mile a minute. He thought that he'd figure things out and then get some sleep, but it was three hours later, and he still hadn't found a way to set things right. Maybe when they got back to Virginia he'd find a way to make it up to her. But for now, well…he liked playing the part, dammitt!

For a little while, when they were on the ice together and then when they'd watched The Nutcracker all cuddled together under that blanket, he'd been able to forget that it was all just a farce. He'd been able to pretend that she was his. With a sigh he rolled over…to an empty bed. He sat up and looked around, but she wasn't in the chair by the bed, either. The door leading to the adjoining bathroom was open and the light was off. Panicking, he looked to the opposite wall, but her suitcase was still there, zipped up and resting on its side. He breathed a sigh of relief as he got out of bed and headed for the stairs.

He walked into the living room, bathed in blinking Christmas lights. It was dark other than that, and his eyes came to rest on the couch. Penelope was fast asleep, lying on her side. Derek grinned as he looked at her in those ridiculous red footie pajamas with big candy canes on them, then down at his own, forest green with snowmen wearing top hats. He went over to the couch and knelt down beside her, using his hand to smooth her hair away from her face. "Penelope?" he said softly.

Her eyelids fluttered open at the sound of his voice.

"Trying to catch a glimpse of Santa Claus?" he teased. His grin disappeared when he heard her choke back a sob. "Garcia?"

She sat up and when the lights blinked on again, he noticed that her eyes were swollen and red. For the first time, it occurred to him that there was a very good possibility he might not be _able_ to make this up to her. He couldn't help it, the words came. "I'm sorry I made you do this," he said quietly.

She wiped at her eyes as a single tear fell down each cheek. "It's OK. I agreed to it," she reminded him.

_Only after he'd talked her into it_, he reminded himself. "I'll make it up to you, Penelope. I promise."

But he could tell she didn't believe him. The sadness didn't leave her eyes. But she stood up and nodded. "Ok," she said softly, as she headed for the stairs.

He got to his feet and his hand gently encircled her elbow. The one thing that he could give amidst all their lies was his honesty—if that even made any sense. "Just so you know, this is the best Christmas I've had in a long time," he told her.

She nodded. "Me, too," she said, her voice breaking.

He reached out his other arm for her and took a step forward. "Penelope—"

"Please don't," she said quickly, shrinking back from him. "I'm OK. I'll be fine."

He had never seen her look so broken before, and he had no choice but to drop his hand and watch her turn and walk away.

___

After she'd woken up on the couch and come upstairs, Penelope hadn't been able to catch one wink of sleep. She stepped out of the shower with a yawn and toweled off, then got dressed. After blow drying her hair, she walked down the back stairs and into the kitchen. "Something smells wonderful," she said as she walked further into the room.

"Good morning," Fran said as she flipped a pancake in the air with the spatula. It landed in the middle of the pan on the uncooked side and she lifted an eyebrow, followed by a grin.

Penelope nodded. "I'm impressed," she said.

Fran laughed. "I could teach you how to do it," she said.

"Oh, no," Penelope said quickly. She frowned. "Then I'd be _expected_ to cook."

"Oh, the travesty," Sarah said dramatically.

Penelope smiled as she sat down next to Derek. "Hey," he said softly, studying her face. He reached for her hand under the table, and she tried to pull away, but his grip remained firm.

"Hey," she returned with a forced smile.

"Merry Christmas!" Desiree said as she came bouncing into the kitchen.

"Merry Christmas to you, too," Fran said. "Did everyone sleep OK?"

Derek grinned. "Penelope didn't. She was keeping watch for Santa," he teased, leaning over to nudge her with his shoulder. He hated knowing she was feeling the way she was.

She laughed nervously. "I didn't see him," she admitted.

"Of course you didn't," Sarah said. "No one gets to see Santa. It's the rule."

Penelope counted the places at the table. "Who is the extra setting for?" she asked.

Sarah grinned. "That's for the boy toy," she said. "He's been at the hospital since you got in."

"Sarah landed a doctor," Desiree said. "Her very own McDreamy."

"Ooooh," Penelope said.

Sarah rolled her eyes. "He's not a doctor."

"Not _yet_," Desiree said.

"Breakfast is ready," Fran said, bringing a plate of pancakes to the table.

Sarah followed with a plate of scrambled eggs, and Derek got up to get the platter of bacon and sausage as Desiree pulled a pan of fresh biscuits from the oven.

Sarah's boyfriend showed up just as they'd finished serving themselves. After he'd been seated and Derek said grace, they ate breakfast together. After the meal the men retired to the living room as the women cleaned up in the kitchen, and then Penelope excused herself to go upstairs to call each of her brothers to wish them a Merry Christmas. When she came back down half an hour later, the only person in the living room was Fran.

"Where did everyone go?" she asked, walking into the room.

Fran smiled. "Bennett took Sarah to the place where they had their first date. He's going to ask her to marry him."

Penelope grinned back. "And he told you first?"

"He's old–fashioned. He asked my permission," she said proudly.

"Awww," Penelope said. "That's sweet."

Fran nodded. "I thought so. And Derek had to go out because I forgot cranberry sauce. And Desiree just can't have Christmas dinner without cranberry sauce," she said dramatically.

Penelope laughed. "Of course not." She looked down as her cell phone began to ring. "Oh, it's Preston. I wasn't able to get a hold of him so I left him a message. I'll be right back." She headed for the stairs as she opened her phone.

___

Penelope opened her suitcase and began to throw her things inside of it haphazardly. She went into the bathroom and grabbed her toiletries, tossing them in, and opened the drawers, pulling things out and chucking them in. She felt like she was going to suffocate underneath the lies. She had to get out of here now.

"Penelope?"

She swung around at the sound of her name, her breathing increasing. "I have to go," she said quickly.

Fran moved into the room. "Is everything OK?" she asked concerned.

Penelope shook her head frantically. "No. It's…there's an emergency. I have to…I have to go home. I—"

"Penelope, calm down."

Penelope put her arms around her waist and hugged herself. "I can't…I can't breathe."

"Penelope. Just take deep breaths."

She nodded and began to do as Fran told her. A few minutes later, she was breathing evenly again.

"I'm just gonna call Derek," Fran said.

But Penelope grabbed her arm as she turned away. "Please don't."

"If there's an emergency, he'll want to be with _you_."

"Yes, but…he should be with his family."

Fran didn't say anything, just studied the young woman's face. Penelope took another deep breath, and sighed. She couldn't help herself. She walked into Fran's arms and wrapped her own around the woman. "Thank you for everything," she said.

Fran squeezed her gently. "You're welcome," she said softly.

Penelope swallowed past the lump of guilt in her throat as she pulled away.

Fran's eyes filled with tears. "You don't have to go." Her voice was thick.

But Penelope nodded. "I do," she insisted.

"We haven't even opened presents yet."

"Derek will bring them home," she said. "I'm sure they're _wonderful_."

"Well, at least let me drive you to the airport."

"I called a cab."

"Penelope."

Derek might never forgive her, but she was going to have to chance it for her own sanity. "I don't want you to miss anything."

Fran tilted her head to the side. "I'm gonna miss _you_."

Penelope turned away quickly, zipping up her suitcase before she could change her mind. She turned back around. "I'm gonna miss you, too."

The honking sound in the driveway caught her attention. "There's my cab."

Fran nodded. "Have a safe flight."

___

Derek dropped the cranberry sauce on the counter, hung his coat on the hook by the door, and then made his way into the living room. "Penelope upstairs?" he asked his mother. She was sitting on the couch with a blanket wrapped around her.

"No," his mother said crossly.

"Where is she?" he asked.

His mother looked at his face and her eyes pierced into his. "On her way to O'Hare."

"What?" he asked in confusion.

"There was an emergency. She had to go."

"What kind of emergency?" he asked panicked.

"The _fake_ kind!"

"Momma—"

"Don't you 'momma' me, little boy!"

Derek's eyes widened. He hadn't seen his mother this fuming since he'd fed Desiree an entire package of chocolate x-lax when they were kids. His mother shot up off the couch and began to fold the blanket. When she was done, she threw it on the back of the couch.

"You brought that girl into this house and you asked her to lie to us! Do you have any idea how hard that must have been for her?" Her eyes narrowed in anger, then began to soften as she sighed. "You need to propose to her," she informed him.

"What?" Derek asked.

His mother tilted her head to the side, the way she did when she was searching his face for the truth. He shifted uncomfortably under her gaze.

Finally his mother rolled her eyes. "What kind of an idiot do you take me for, Derek? Six months before you told me you were engaged to Penelope, you were seeing someone else. And then you told me you and Penelope had been together for a year. Now I _know_ I didn't raise a cheater. A bit of a…player, maybe, but _not_ a cheater! Any idiot can see you two are crazy about each other. Now ask the girl to marry you!"

"She doesn't want to marry me," he told his mother.

"What makes you think that?" Fran asked.

Derek sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "Every word that comes out of her mouth."

"You asked her to come here, Derek, and lie to us. Do you think that she would do something like that for you if she didn't care for you?"

"Momma—"

"Are you even dating her?"

Derek cleared his throat and thanked God for his chocolate colored skin. It was hiding the red he could feel creeping into his cheeks. This was _not _a conversation he wanted to have with his mother. "Not exactly," he said awkwardly.

"Is she a coworker?"

"Yes," he said.

"Are you…more than coworkers?"

"What…I don't like this conversation!"

"So you're _not_ seeing her," she said calculatingly. "You're taking advantage of her!"

Derek sighed. "I am_ not_ taking advantage of her."

"So you're not sleeping with her?"

"I didn't say that," he muttered.

"Well I'm ashamed of you," his mother said.

She was manipulating him; he knew she was. But it didn't matter. It was his mother, and he was going to walk right into it. He always did. "Don't say that," he told her.

"I just did."

"You know what, Momma? If she wanted me, she could have me!"

"She doesn't _look_ at you like a woman who _has_ you. She _looks_ at you like a woman who _wants_ you."

"I've asked her a million times—"

"Asked her _what_, Derek?" his mother demanded.

The question caused him to snap his jaw shut. What _had _he asked her? He racked his brain and the only thing he'd ever asked her— besides to pose as his fake fiancé—was to spend the night with him. And for all she knew, all he wanted was another go-round. He'd admitted to himself last night that he was afraid she'd say no to him. So the answer to his mother's question—was nothing. He'd never asked her out on a _real _date. He'd never told her he wanted more than what they had. Sure, he'd hinted around, but where Penelope was concerned, he'd always had to be blunt with her. When he'd asked her to hop into bed with him—well, he grinned at the thought. _That _had been quite the conversation. He sighed.

"What if she doesn't want to marry me?" he asked quietly.

Fran studied her sons face, and reached for his hand, giving it a squeeze. "What if she _does_?"

He stood there for a minute, and then she sighed. "Give her everything she doesn't know she wants, Derek." She shook her head. "But not because I'm telling you to. Do it because you love her."

___

Penelope looked at her watch for the tenth time in about five minutes. It had been easier than she'd thought to book a flight on Christmas day. Granted she wouldn't be flying into Virginia, but she'd be able to get a rental car and drive the rest of the way home. But she hadn't counted on the weather. The plane she was supposed to be on was stuck in Maine, where a nor'easter was in full force and everything was grounded. She was probably going to have to get a hotel room for the night.

She sighed as she shrunk down into her uncomfortable airport seat and closed her eyes. This trip was a full-fledged disaster. She'd probably alienated Derek forever. But, dammitt! He should have known better. It wasn't as easy as she'd thought it was going to be. She shuddered as she remembered the look of understanding on Fran's face when she'd told her she had to go. She suspected the woman knew the truth, but she wasn't going to confirm or deny _anything_. That was up to Derek.

And who in the hell did she think she was kidding? She'd been walking around all these months thinking she was having no strings attached sex. The truth was there were so many damn strings that they were a tangled mess—every single one of them attached to her heart. Stupid Derek and his stupid sparkling personality and his stupid prowess in bed! Leave it to _her _to end up in bed with a man who had the whole package. _And then some_, she thought as she tried to fight back a grin.

She felt someone brush up against her as they sat down. A thousand vacant seats in the airport, and they had to choose _this_ one? Her eyes flew open, then immediately filled with tears. "I couldn't do it," she said miserably.

He nodded. "I know," he said softly. "And…you shouldn't have had to. That was my fault."

"I was part of a _family_, Derek. A _real_ family." She sighed. "And it felt so good to be part of that again." She shook her head. "Only I _wasn't_ really."

He sat there staring at her, a grin on his face.

"What?" she asked.

"You just called me Derek," he told her. "And there's no one around."

"Bigger picture here, Morgan," she reminded him. And herself. He smelled like that mysterious cologne again, and he was wearing a brown leather bomber jacket. The same one he'd been wearing the first time she'd met him. Wowza. She was going to have to really work to concentrate on this conversation.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"And…I'm calling it off."

"Calling what off?" he asked.

She waved a hand. "This whole…friends with benefits thing. I'm not good at it."

"Oh, trust me. You hold your own, sweetheart," he assured her.

She shook her head. "No. Not in the bedroom. _Out_ of the bedroom. I can't…I thought I could do it. I thought I could just sleep with you, and not feel anything. But the truth is…" Her voice trailed off.

He was hanging on her every word. "The truth is _what_?" he pressed.

"I think I might love you," she said desolately.

He couldn't help himself—he laughed.

"What?" she asked angrily.

"Penelope Garcia, you are the only woman I know who could tell me she thinks she's in love with me _and_ sound like she's walking to the execution chamber all at the same time." He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. "News flash. I think I might love you, too," he said teasingly. He knew damn well he loved her.

"What are we gonna do?" she asked.

He took a deep breath. "Well, I say we stop lying to my family."

"You wanna tell them the truth?" she asked suspiciously.

He shook his head. "No," he said softly. "I wanna ask you to marry me."

"Are you crazy?" she demanded.

"Only about you," he assured her.

"Derek…" she said.

He grinned. "You just did it again. Careful. You're falling right into your part."

"You can't ask me to marry you," she said.

"Why not?" he asked.

She sighed. "We haven't even dated."

"Darlin', I think we're _long_ past dating. But if you want it, you got it. But I'm not dating you without an engagement."

"It's not _normal_ to get engaged before you date," she argued.

"It's not _normal_ to hop into bed before you date, either," he reasoned. "Should we stop sleeping together?"

"God, no," she said. If they were going to date, she certainly wasn't going to be able to keep her hands to herself.

"So, it seems we're gridlocked," he deduced. "You want to date; I want to be engaged."

She studied his face. "You're manipulating me."

_Like mother, like son_, he thought. He lifted one corner of his mouth in his half grin. "How am I doing?" he asked.

She was silent for a moment. "It's gonna have to be a long engagement," she insisted.

"Of course it is," he teased. "I would never expect you to give in to me so easily."

"Hey," she said with mock indignation.

He pulled her to him in a bone crushing hug. "It's about damn time you gave me what I want, Garcia" he said. He pulled away, gripping her upper arms. "But before we go any further, we need to clear the air. I don't want there to be anymore lies."

"OK," she said uncertainly.

"There's no 'might' about it," he told her. "I love everything about you." He lifted her hair back and dropped a kiss behind her ear. "I love the way you taste." He placed a hand on her neck, tracing her collarbone with his fingertip. "I love the way you feel." He looked into her eyes. "And I _love…_the way you're looking at me right now."

"Derek…" she said longingly. "We need…a room."

"Sorry," he said huskily, eyes dancing. "I don't do that on the first date."

***THE END***


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